“Go ahead,” she nudged, “Finish what you started.”I was too fucking hard to argue. My hand started stroking up and down my young cock again. I...watched her eyes fall to watch my labor. She took a step into the bathroom and leaned back on the wall. I couldn’t take my eyes off her body as I stroked faster. Her panties were balled in my other fist. I watched as she pushed a finger between the lips of her pussy. Her smile was wicked, her eyes, naughty. “Put those panties down,” she whispered, “Come. "I'm going to order you a thigh-high, as it will be self-supporting. Black or beige?" I beg your pardon?" What colour do you want your surgical stocking?" Oh, I see. Er, well beige I suppose. Wouldn't do to go walking around in a black nylon stocking, would it?"She giggled again (how I was beginning to adore that impish giggle). "They're polyester, actually, but yes, you might have some explaining to do to your wife." I'm not married." There we are. All done. Should be through in seven days.. More

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